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As the sun set in the west, we flew east, out of Uganda and out of Africa. I’m now sitting in Dubai airport full of tinsel, fake snow and bling, neon signs flashing in my tired eyes, trying to convince me I need their diamond jewellery, gold watches, top shelf spirits and overpriced goods. There’s even a Lamborghini on display. Overwhelming to say the least after the week I’ve just had. My cup of tea feels like all that’s keeping these dusty feet grounded.

My trips to Uganda have always been packed to bursting but I feel like this past week has surpassed all others. Refugee camps, solar budgets, Christmas parties, countless visits to far-flung families, several tearful farewells, a journey across the country to visit Rose’s father, a final meeting in the back seat of Dominic’s car flying through traffic en route to the airport… It’s been a busy time to say the least and my head is still spinning trying to take it all in. Where to start?

I returned to KAASO from Kampala on Monday, not riding co-pilot as I had hoped with my solar technician but on the back of a boda to the heaving taxi park where we negotiated our ride on a bus headed south and spent the next four hours sweltering sitting on the engine jammed in between sacks, boxes and of course the obligatory chickens. The pounding Kampala rains made it a steamy affair and I was immensely happy to return to my village home that afternoon. The solar story is long to say the least, and ongoing – negotiations and discussions continued right up until this morning when I had to cut them short to make my flight in time but we still hope to be able to have things resolved before the children flood back through the KAASO gates next year. I will keep you posted…

On Tuesday we packed all of the sponsor children into two cars and with me at the wheel of one and Harriet, the other volunteer, at the wheel of the other, we set off, headed towards the Tanzanian border. At Rose’s suggestion, we were to visit Sango Bay refugee camp on an educational tour for the sponsor children to remind them just how lucky they were. And that they did.

Not really realising what a refugee camp was, the students dressed in their Sunday best, and on passing through the security checkpoint, were soon surrounded by swarms of wide-eyed children, hopeful of receiving some of the clothing the students had gathered to distribute and no doubt keen for a bit of excitement to break up the monotony of their lives in the camp. It’s a veritable no-man’s-land – many of the inhabitants are in fact Ugandans who left their homeland some 50 years ago in search of more land in Tanzania. Last year the Tanzanian government decided they didn’t want these foreigners in their country anymore and exiled people in droves. Ugandans, Rwandans, Burundians and Congolese were given warning of the impending exile but few believed it to be serious until soldiers arrived on trucks and forcibly removed them, leaving them time to take nothing but the clothes they were wearing. They trucked them across the border and handed them over to the Ugandan government who sent them to Sango Bay refugee camp. The camp now houses 5,000 people, over half of which are children. Unicef and other NGOs are helping to supplement the government supplies and rations in the camp and there’s a makeshift school for over 1,000 children but conditions are pretty dire. I felt uncomfortable being a spectator to such a scene but speaking to the students later, it was clear the visit had had quite an impact and it was interesting to watch the tables turned – the sponsor students are largely orphaned or with little family support and it’s easy to think of them as hard done by but here they were distributing their own clothing to those in even greater need. Everything is relative.

The following day I threw a Christmas party for the sponsor students and those children still left at KAASO. There are a handful of kids whose parents or guardians have “failed to pick them” as Rose tells me, so they remain drifting around KAASO looking slightly lost and downbeat. So it was a delight to watch their eyes light up when I told them that of course they too were invited to the Christmas party and they eagerly took their place in line to enjoy the feast we had prepared. Henry and I did our annual Christmas tree trip to his mother’s garden where I stood holding a rusty ladder while he hacked at branches with a machete and the car was soon full of the smell of Christmas. His mum took the lead in decorating and soon the classrooms were strung with decorations, balloons and streamers I’d brought with me from San Fran and the Christmas tree was dotted with tropical flowers that the boys brought from the gardens. As I sit writing, Dubai airport is playing ‘Feed the world – do they know it’s Christmas time at all…’ Yes, yes they do.

The Kiwi Sponsor Committee we formed last year is still going strong (Ugandans LOVE committees) and every holiday they’ve been meeting to discuss the term, write letters to their sponsors (tragically both packages of letters from the last two meetings were lost in the mail but this time I’ve got all the letters safely in my hand luggage) and catch up on school life. Henry lead the proceedings as the Chairman of the committee and Dominic and Rose gave inspiring speeches. Rose talked of the “treasure of education,” reminding them just how lucky they were to have the support they did, encouraging them to “try your level best to find your way” but not to “jump for something – go step by step.” Dominic has the uncanny ability of being able to get across a serious message while still having the room in fits of laughter, myself included. He stressed the importance of the KAASO family, something we all belong to and that even though there are ups and downs, if you are family, you love each other regardless and will tolerate people for all that they are. Rose had the final word, thanking me so much for somehow managing to find sponsors for all these students and therefore changing the course of their lives. Her words reduced me to tears with their simple beauty: “Emma is not just a volunteer, she’s not just Emma, she’s a big lady – even if she looks a bit small. You see – she can create a way where it isn’t.” But that thanks is not mine – it’s to all of you who help, support, encourage and follow my journeys to KAASO. You help me create the way and for that I thank you.

I managed to catch up with all 25 sponsor students – in their homes, at their schools or back at KAASO. It was nothing short of epic as what started as trying to help one 13-year-old Henry get to secondary school has become a kind of mentorship as I sit and discuss the futures of each and every student. It can be both exhausting and heartbreaking but I wouldn’t have it any other way. There are now four students at nursing school, two doing veterinary certificates, four more about to finish secondary school next year and range of others at various stages of their schooling. My dream is that one day they will all be qualified in one way or another, they will be working and able to support themselves and their families, especially the incredible grandmothers who tirelessly keep families afloat across Uganda, and that they will go on to become role models in their communities as a way of repaying the support they have had both from their sponsors and from the KAASO family.

My final morning at KAASO, I went to visit Damian’s tomato garden. I didn’t know what to find as the days had run away from me and it had been almost a week since our first discussion. Turning the corner on that dusty path on a scorching morning, I couldn’t have been more impressed. He had slashed two thirds of his half acre plot, dug holes, filled them with manure, planted seedlings and carefully covered each one with homemade banana palm shades to protect them from the relentless equatorial sunshine. Hoe in hand, he was hard at work when I arrived and as he came bounding over to meet me, he couldn’t stop grinning. He was radiant and when I asked if he was enjoying himself I thought his face might explode from smiling so much. He was in his element.

We went through the budget and he showed me his calculations of each and every shilling I had given him so far and outlined how he planned to spend the rest. I walked away feeling that if nothing else, that one project made every minute of waiting for this trip worthwhile.

I left KAASO biting back tears as I said my goodbyes to Stellah, the girl I sponsor whose 17th birthday we celebrated together on Thursday, Henry and all the other remaining children. I know I will be back next year but it’s always hard giving those last hugs and turning out the gates with a sea of sad eyes and little waves following me. Loaded with children, suitcases and crops to take to Kampala relatives, I drove Dominic’s car with Rose as my navigator up to Kampala, distributing people and cargo along the way. We arrived late and hit Kampala’s notorious traffic, ending up thoroughly wedged around a roundabout in a pile up of cars, trucks, taxi vans and suicidal motorbikes, of which I inadvertently managed to hit two along the way. Fortunately no one was hurt, just a bunch of shouting at fist-waving at this crazy muzungu driver.

We set off the next morning to visit Rose’s father, ‘just outside’ Kampala – what turned out to be over a two hour drive away. It was a long and dusty road but wow was it worth it. Husband to eight wives, father to over thirty children (Rose lost count at 25) and a prominent magistrate in the area, her father is a fascinating man. In spite of his success, he insisted that all of his children learn the value of money, that food must be worked for and nothing taken for granted. Rose grew up with 15 siblings her age and together they would work in the gardens to ensure there was food on the table. When he retired, her father decided to open a primary school next door to his house to help educate needy children from the area and to keep himself busy. Rose clearly took after her father. Well-spoken, highly educated with excellent English, her father sat with me and thanked me profusely for coming all that way to visit him, saying he was honoured by the effort I’d made to “put him in my programme.” As we spoke, he sat looking from me to Rose and finally burst out laughing saying it was confirmed. I looked at him in confusion – what? It turns out that except for the colour of our skin, he believed that Rose and I looked so similar we could be sisters and henceforth declared that I was a daughter of his and part of his family. It was my turn to be honoured.

My final night was spent at John and Mirriam’s where I watched on with amusement as Rose and her brother tried lasagne for the first time and her brother’s young boys raced around the front courtyard in John and Mirriam’s daughter’s pram, captivated by this alien contraption. As I sat at the dining table, enjoying a precious glass of Cloudy Bay sauvignon blanc which John had been saving for a special occasion, I felt so incredibly grateful to have this amazing network of friends who have come to feel like family in an unlikely corner of the world. The best part is knowing that I will always be going back and that these relationships are forever.

Fittingly, my last day in Uganda was hectic. Dominic was meant to join us in the morning, coming up on the early bus from KAASO as he had had two weddings to attend in the village the previous day. Of course, the bus never showed and so he missed the meeting Rose and I were having with Rotary John. We were just driving out of his compound gates for the airport when a motorbike came flying in with Dominic hanging off the back, grinning as he jumped off the bike and into the car. All the way to the airport I sat discussing the future of KAASO with Dominic and Rose, hearing their hopes and dreams and brimming with pride. Every time I come back here I am reminded, yet again, of how incredible those two are and how lucky I am to have stumbled across this little gem in a tiny village in the middle of the African continent. What they have done, what they do and all I know they will do, inspires me endlessly and as I look around this glittering consumerist world of Dubai at Christmas, I close my eyes and picture all those little faces I left behind and I am reminded of what’s important in life. And for that I feel truly, truly grateful.

Time in Uganda is a funny thing. While a single day can seem to span for a week with so much happening and so much to get your head around, somehow a week can pass in a day, leaving you wishing there was more time. This time two weeks ago I was arriving in the village; in just one week I will be on a plane home. I wish there was more time but I am ever grateful for my annual visits, especially this one which made me realise with newfound intensity just how much I value my time in Uganda.

Last Sunday was KAASO’s Speech Day which was a huge celebration marking the end of the school year, combined with the graduation of the gorgeous nursery children who are now promoted to Primary One.

It was a moving day, with children of all ages performing before their parents and guardians, singing, dancing, drumming, moving and shaking. I was so proud watching them all, those I first met almost six years ago, now all grown up. Brenda did an incredible job of her performance and received a huge reception from the crowd.

Dominic gave a heartfelt speech thanking me for all I had done for KAASO and I was humbled by the gratitude and kindness that flooded my way from everyone I met. I still marvel at how far this school has come over the past few years and how lucky I feel to have stumbled across this very special little corner of the world, nestled in a tiny village amidst banana palms and mango trees.

Speech Day ended with a disco which saw people from 3 to 93 up dancing in the school’s front courtyard. We were hugely fortunate that the rains held off as we’re in the midst of the rainy season and the previous day had seen the most torrential downpour I’ve ever experience in Uganda with pounding rains turning dust to mud, flowing in rivers through the school for hours. I can’t help but smile as I write, as the thumping music from a nearby bar pounds out “I bless the rains down in Africa.”

In the midst of the dancing, the school year officially ended and the children started to flood out of the school gates with their mattresses, metal suitcases and worldly belongings on their heads. I tried to farewell everyone but it was overwhelming trying to take in the mass exodus of over 500 children who marched like ants out the school gates, spreading out across the country for the holidays with parents, grandparents and distant relatives.

The consolation of all these departing children is the return of the sponsor children and every day it seems I am met with another flying hug from a newly returned secondary student. The children I met in 2009 are now 18 and 19-year olds who dwarf me and have matured into a bunch of incredible young adults. I went to Masaka on Friday to pick up Henry and David from school and beamed with pride as these two handsome young men in crisp white shirts and ties showed me around their school, grinning as they explained their responsibility to set an example for the younger children as they are now the ‘elders’ and role models of the school – next year is their last year of secondary school before they will head out into the world.

It makes me so immensely proud to see all these grown up students back at KAASO, helping around the school and guiding and inspiring the younger children. I have been meeting with each of the sponsor students, catching up on their year, hearing of their hopes and dreams and what they hope to become given the incredible boost they have had by being sponsored through secondary school. I listen to their dreams of becoming doctors, vets, pharmacists, nurses, businessmen… Most importantly, what has impressed me this time is that these students have grasped the concept that their sponsorships are not everlasting but amazing head starts in life which they must not take for granted. Those that are approaching the end of their studies are mapping out their next paths, working out how they can cultivate gardens and set up poultry projects and get jobs to help support themselves and their families and fund the next stages of their lives. It has been so heartening to meet with them all and to feel the overflowing gratitude towards their sponsors that pours from each and every one. I started this project five years ago, having no idea where it would lead, never imagining I would now have over 20 children being given the simplest gift of all, one we so often take for granted – an education.

While sitting with one of the sponsor students last week, a new idea was born, one I hope will set a precedent and be the start of something truly incredible. He was explaining to me that he wanted to create his own tomato garden in the holidays which he could harvest before going back to school in early March. He lost both of his parents and in the holidays stays with his grandmother not far from KAASO in her small mud-brick hut where she takes care of half a dozen other orphaned grandchildren. He explained to me that his grandmother had a plot of land she was willing to give him for the project, all he lacked was the initial capital to get his tomatoes in the ground. Sitting together on the floor of my room, I listened intently as this 18-year old boy carefully explained the process of creating a tomato garden, the materials required and the costs involved. I was well and truly impressed. I gave him a blank sheet of paper and told him that if he could come back to me with a detailed budget and plan as to how he would achieve his goal, I would lend him the money. He looked at me in shock, clarified that I was serious, thanked me profusely and disappeared. Two hours later, he was back, budget in hand. Under the supervision of Teacher Sarah, the project is now underway and it’s something I hope will be the first of many such student-driven initiatives. It’s incredible what can be achieved with a whole lot of determination and a little bit of capital. He has been busy slashing the land with a machete and purchasing seedlings and manure and when I went to visit the land one evening he just smiled at me and said, “Madame Emma, thank you so much. Really, I am appreciating so much.” I can’t wait for the first bite of juicy tomato when I return next year.

With another volunteer at KAASO and a couple of others we picked up along the way, I ventured west to Queen Elizabeth park. I had never been to the Western Region and was amazed at the contrast in scenery. While Kabira overflows with green banana palms, fertile crops and striking red earth, Queen Elizabeth was a dry savannah with the spectacular Mt Rwenzori rising in the background, lakes George and Edward glistening in the sun and on the distant horizon, the hazy mountains of the Democratic Republic of Congo. We followed packs of lions, were chased by territorial bull elephants, trekked chimpanzees through the rainforest and dined in the light of paraffin lanterns under the stars. It was amazing to see another part of Uganda and the vast diversity of this country, smaller than New Zealand in landmass but with a population almost 10 times our 4 million people.

I travelled to Kampala yesterday, bumping into Kim along the way and we caught up on the progress of her malnutrition ward and the gardens she uses to feed her young patients during the crowded bus trip north. Dominic met me off the bus and together we met with solar companies in Kampala. Tomorrow morning I will travel alongside a solar technician back to the village as co-pilot in the truck of Solar Energy for Africa, hopefully one step closer to getting the solar system sorted. I had a lovely to catch up with John, a Kiwi friend who moved here in 2009, and his gorgeous two-year old daughter and have enjoyed staying with my dear friends Sonia and Paul, who I first met in 2009. AFRIpads, their business of washable sanitary pads has gone from strength to strength and is now helping girls not only in Uganda but in refugee camps and disaster areas around the world to cope with their monthly periods.

Every time I come to Uganda, I learn more and more about this country, its people, culture and life in the village. It’s a world of contrasts, a world that is deafening and peaceful, frantic and slow, contradictory and yet somehow, somehow, things make sense.

It hasn’t even been a week but I am well and truly back into the swing of things here in my Ugandan home. With a stomach full of fried grasshoppers (’tis the season…) and teeth sugar-coated from sweet sodas after a local school visit, I sit reflecting and trying to capture the past few days.

Rose surprised me at Entebbe airport, meeting me off my flight with Dominic and a bunch of roses wrapped in colourful cellophane. It was incredible to see her, I have always had to wait for the long journey south before being reunited with this amazing mother-to-600 and friend to me. The three of us chatted animatedly on the trip down to KAASO, catching up on all the latest news from KAASO and the surrounding community. We pulled in through the school gates after dark and I was overwhelmed by a 300-child choir serenading my return, their little ‘wimowaes’ ringing through the village. My room and the dining room were all hung with hand-drawn signs welcoming me home, plastic flowers adorned my mosquito net and balloons hung from my chair inviting me to ‘sit comfortably.’ It was good to be back.

I don’t know whether it was the postponement of my trip or simply the fact that I continue to return every year, but since being back I have felt an enormous sense of appreciation from everyone I meet for my annual visits and I am constantly showered by thanks and gratitude. “Thank you for loving us,” rings in my ears daily. “Really, you are loving us so much and we are so grateful for all you are doing and those people back home, eh, they are loving us too!” More than they could ever know.

It’s the last week of the school term before breaking off for the Christmas holidays and the children are preparing with fervour for the upcoming speech day on Sunday at which I have been invited to be the guest of honour. It seems this is an event to rival any Broadway production as the school constantly rings with the sound of drumming and singing as the children practice over and over again, ensuring their Sunday performance to the parents and guardians will be perfect. Little Brenda, a girl I first met as a 6-year-old in 2009, is the main soloist and I feel so incredibly proud watching her move around the grassy stage, thinking back on the days when she was too shy to look me in the eye, never mind perform to a crowd. These continued visits help remind me how far these children and the school as a whole have come over the past 6 years and I am forever humbled to be part of something so extraordinary.

The children have also been enjoying picking up where we left off with our music sessions, singing with me under the shade of trees around the school grounds. Stephen, one of the Kiwi Sponsor students, is back from secondary school for the holidays and has been coming for daily guitar lessons. He learns so quickly and can’t stop beaming as he plays and it’s just a joy to see. What’s been even more rewarding has been watching him teach the guitar to other children at KAASO, some of the older children who have been singing with me since 2009 and have always wanted to learn to play. Now they have their chance and it’s coming from one of their own students, something I only could have dreamed of a few years ago.

In between rehearsals, music sessions and late-night catch ups over the dinner table with Rose, I have been working with Dominic to put together a solar budget to help bring back to life the system installed in 2009 which is no longer working. We have had many lengthy discussions, I have climbed multiple triple-decker bunks to photograph wiring systems and charge controllers, sat in solar offices in the nearby town of Kyotera waiting for men to arrive on the back of motorbikes bringing information and quotes. It’s a lengthy process but we are getting there slowly and I hope that by the time I leave we will be able to bring solar-powered light back to KAASO.

The Kiwi Sponsor students are slowly trickling back to KAASO as they finish up their year at school and now I find them helping around the compound, cooking, cleaning, sweeping, feeding chickens, bathing smaller children and doing all they can to help Dominic and Rose, their gratitude evident for the adopted parents who have supported them so much and enabled them to get to where they are. It is such a pleasure to see their smiling faces and we are planning a Christmas party for them all before I leave in December.

Every time I come back to Uganda I am reminded of how truly incredible this place is, how determined the children are to succeed against considerable odds, how dedicated Dominic and Rose are to helping them, how far KAASO continues to come and how much joy I receive from simply being here. There is, as always, a long way to go and many mountains still to climb, but as Rose said in the light of a dim bulb hanging over the dining table last night, “You can’t do everything, but at least you can do something.”

You never know how much you want something until you can’t have it. Postponing my trip to Uganda was a decision I made out of respect for those I love and one I knew I had to make, even if it hurt. This past month has given me time to think, process and reflect, and has made me realise, more than ever before, just how much KAASO means to me.

What scared me most was not knowing how long this postponement would be, worrying that if Ebola did manage to spread across the continent and wreak havoc in East Africa, it could be a very long wait. Luckily, that wait was not as long as I’d feared. The case of Marburg found in Kampala turned out to be just that, a single case. It has been contained and all those quarantined released. While Ebola continues to be a terrible plague across West Africa, life in Uganda continues to move to the beat of its own lively drum.

So, after many long discussions, hours of research and several hilarious conversations with the village (one of which was with Teacher Enock who told me, “Madam Emma, you may come back. Marburg – he is not here!”), my flights are booked and on Friday I return to my Ugandan home. And I do so with the full love and support of my family who are right behind me in my decision.

Thank you for all your messages this past month, to those of you who reminded me how to smile when my face forgot, who reassured me that my little friends would still be there waiting when I returned.

As Dominic replied when I forwarded him my flight details:

“This is very good. We shall be so happy to have you on the 23rd. Everybody here is very eager to receive you and I think the whole school will go crazy when you arrive.”

One of the greatest things about being a KAASO volunteer is the incredible community of past volunteers you meet around the world. Volunteers returning from KAASO get in touch with each other to share stories, brainstorm ideas and to keep the spirit of KAASO alive. There’s a real sense of being part of something amazing.

This latest post was written by Lara Briz, a Spanish volunteer who recently went back to KAASO for the second time. It shares her emotions in going back as well as describing the great new initiative she set up as an alternative to traditional child sponsorship.

Read on and enjoy!

In the summer of 2014 I went back to Uganda. It was my second time there and it felt completely different to when I arrived the first time. I felt more confident and was looking forward to seeing how things had changed over the last two years. Arriving in Entebbe, the first thing I saw when walking out of the terminal was Dominic’s face, standing out from the other faces and signs waiting for people at the airport gate. The welcome and friendly look on his face made me realise I was truly back at KAASO.

Coming back to a place you already know is always a bit dangerous. You can find that things have changed a lot since the last time and be disappointed. You can also discover that people have changed and the place doesn’t make you feel at home anymore. My first days at the school proved to me that was not the case at all. I started to see lots of familiar faces, and some new ones. After two days, I was again part of the KAASO community and so happy to be back. Children are always curious when a new “muzungu” is around. This can sometimes be a bit intimidating, dozens of little faces looking at you every move you make, but to my surprise, I realised that I had missed it!

During those first days I talked to Dominic a lot about how the school was right now, what they had achieved since my last visit, and the problems they were dealing with these days. I was impressed by all the new things going on at the school. There were a couple of new water tanks donated by some amazing people from Canada, new pineapple crops were growing near the school, there was a new henhouse that incorporated eggs into the children’s diet, and many more inspiring new developments. I am always impressed when I read about what Dominic and Rose do, but seeing it with my own eyes made me feel really proud of them.

Unfortunately, not everything was going so well. They were having big problems trying to feed all the children. In the beginning when KAASO first started, there were only about 30 children. Nowadays, there are more than 600 and around one sixth of them are sponsored by the school, which means that with the fees of some, they have to maintain and feed all the children, pay the teachers, fund the materials, and keep the school running. Thanks to the crops they had planted, the situation was slightly improved, but still they had to find a way to get enough food for everybody and some months it was really difficult and incredibly stressful for them.

Because of the difficulty in funding the school from the contributions of a few, some of the volunteers and I had been trying to find sponsors for some of these children at KAASO who cannot pay. But again this has its challenges. Sponsorship is a long-term commitment and after some bad experiences with sponsors dropping out, we came to the conclusion that it is better to have no sponsorships than to have failed sponsorships. It is very damaging to the children to have a sponsor that starts and then stops, leaving them wondering what they did wrong.

Before this second trip to Uganda, I had collected some money from friends in Europe and wanted to use it to help mitigate this problem but I didn’t know how. After a couple of days at KAASO I decided the best thing I could do with the funds I had raised was to approach the problem but from a different perspective. Instead of finding somebody to pay a child’s fees, I could try to make the child’s family able to pay the fees themselves. I talked to Rose about it, and we sat and discussed it for a long time, brainstorming the best ways to help these families. As always, Rose never ceased to amaze me. Her intelligence and understanding of both Ugandan and “European” behaviors and feelings is just amazing.

We chose five families to help, most of them run by widows. Economic opportunities are extremely limited for rural women in Uganda and women generally have fewer assets than men and limited opportunities to make money. They have difficulty gaining access to the credit they need to set up small businesses that generate income, so they are constrained to remain at home and depend on their husbands. But when they lose their husbands, the situation becomes incredibly tough since they have no opportunities to make money, and no man to provide for them and their family.

From all the possible businesses, Rose advised that pigs were the most profitable. So we started to plan.

During the next few days, we visited many such families and discussed their issues. Rose helped translate to them what we wanted to do and while I didn’t understand their Luganda answers, words weren’t really necessary; their faces spoke for themselves. They were so happy to hear the good news! As Rose explained to me, in Uganda it is rude if you visit somebody and don’t receive a gift for your visit, and I certainly experienced this. After several days of visiting, we had been given so many fruit baskets!

Busy days followed as we bought all the required materials and hired workers, trying to ensure we stayed in budget. We designed what we considered the best sty, both economical and functional, using sand, rocks and cement for the floor, poles and wooden planks raised around the perimeter and covered by a zinc roof. We bought two pigs for each woman, one male and one female, as well as feed and vaccinations for at least the first year. After that time, all going well, the projects should become self-sustaining.

Let me introduce the wonderful women who participated in the project:

Madam Nasiwa Bena

She is 78-years old and lives in a mud-brick house next to KAASO. She was the only one to whom we decided not to give pigs as it wasn’t the best way for her to make money due to her age. She used to make mats when she could save enough money to buy the materials, so instead we bought enough dye and material so that she could make plenty of mats. Hopefully the sale of her mats will generate enough for her to buy new materials and the balance help support her family.

She has 10 sons and grandsons and one of her daughters who lives with her suffers mental illness and cannot do any work. After spending many days with her during my stay in Uganda, I was so impressed by her determination and strength. It’s hard to believe she is 78-years old.

Madam Nakalema Angelina

She is 60 years old and lives in a small mud-brick house in the forest. Most of her sons died from HIV, so now she has to take care of many grandsons, some of them also suffering from HIV. I can still hear her wonderful laugh and happiness. The first time I met her, after leaving the house, Rose and I were walking back through the forest when one of her sons came to ask us to stop and wait. Next thing, Angelina appeared with baskets of peanuts, delicious mangos and other fruits. I almost cried – there is so much we can learn from the Ugandan people….

Madam Nakitto Teopista

She is 34 years old. Three years ago, her husband died in a boda boda (motorbike) accident, leaving her alone with three children. After this, her husband’s family took everything from her, including the ownership of her pigs. She continued to take care of them and received a small amount of money from her husband’s family for doing so.

Now, with this project, she will have her own sty and won’t have to depend on anyone else. As well as her piggery project, she also works as a seamstress to help feed her children.

Mr and Mrs Kabuule

I had met Mr. Kabuule the first time I visited Uganda as he used to help organise meetings of the Empowerment Group. He was a small man but so kind and friendly, I couldn’t imagine that he was suffering from a terrible disease that prevents him from working or doing almost anything that requires any kind of strength. This congenital disease also affected his grandfather and his father. This time I met the rest of his family and he was very happy that his was one of the families chosen for the project. In this picture is Madam Kabuule having a meeting with Rose in our Ugandan ‘office’.

Nakuya Harriet

Harriet is the fifth woman we chose for our project. She is a widow who lives next to KAASO and who used to help clean houses around the village. We built her a sty and you can see here how proud and happy she is!

My time in Uganda was just incredible. It is crazy how much you can achieve with just a little bit of money. You can change a woman’s life, and therefore a family’s life. You can give them a future, making them feel proud of themselves, not dependent on anybody but themselves. I admire Ugandan women so much and I am sad that it is so difficult for them to gain access to the credit they need to set up a business.

None of this would have been possible without the donations of generous people and friends who trusted me with this new initiative. To all of them, thank you so much. And of course thank you to Rose, Dominic and their son Derrick, whose time, intelligence and efforts are what made all of this happen.

Growing up as a little girl, mama always used to sing to me ‘Que Sera Sera’ – whatever will be will be. It quickly became one of my favourite songs and so, arriving at KAASO in 2009 with my guitar on my back, it was an obvious choice to sing with the children. They adored it and the school grounds would often be ringing with little voices singing their ‘que sera seras’.

When I listen to this song, it reminds me that while life is full of the unknown, of ups and downs, twists and turns, and forks in the road, somehow everything works out in the end. Whether or not we have rainbows day after day.

This video is a celebration of all those gorgeous little children at KAASO, those I have come to know and adore over the past five years.

You can’t help but smile when you see their faces, their happiness is contagious.

Good things come to those who wait and at long last, we have the latest KAASO newsletter. A very loosely ‘monthly’ affair, this one incorporates news from January – October…

It’s packed with all the latest happenings at KAASO, everything from visiting refugee camps to building libraries, from Dominic’s trip to the USA to receiving a generous donation of 20 laptops from a school in Florida. There’s even a section on the delicious meals at KAASO!

Read about the school’s computer classes and Dominic’s hilarious update on the various projects running at KAASO – you will hear all about Mr Passion Fruit, Mr Piggery, Mrs Sweet Potato, Mr Maize…

My personal favourite is Teacher Sam’s section on the Education Week celebrations. Read how the music “boomed like a gun and covered the audience like wall paper”, how “the melodious voices evaporated like a fragrance leaving the audience in suspense” and “in the blink of an eye the audience was like dustpans waiting to swallow rubbish.”

Yesterday I made one of the toughest decisions of my life. As you will all be aware, the Ebola virus has been causing devastation throughout West Africa since March this year, leaving a trail of fatalities in its wake. It’s an unthinkable tragedy and I have watched on with huge sadness as these events unfolded.

However, my plans to return to Uganda remained unchanged. This was an epidemic taking place over 5,000 kilometers away on the other side of a continent. People so often speak of ‘Africa’ as one place, a single country rather than a landmass covering 30 million square kilometers, triple the size of Europe, with 54 counties, home to over a billion people. I sometimes wondered if there was an Ebola outbreak in Ukraine it would stop people travelling to Paris. I highly doubt it and yet it’s half the distance between Uganda and West Africa.

Last Sunday the Ugandan Ministry of Health notified the World Health Organisation (WHO) that there had been a fatality in Kampala from Marburg, a virus from the same family as Ebola with similar symptoms and fatality rates. I began to do some research into this disease and learned that there had been small outbreaks of both Marburg and Ebola in Uganda in 2011, 2012, and 2013. These ‘outbreaks’ were all regionalised, all quickly contained and shut down. The tragedy for the West African nations where the Ebola virus is currently running wild is that the outbreak comes after a decade of civil war which has left infrastructure in tatters and confidence in governments low.

In Uganda, people have been educated to be much more open about illnesses since the government’s widespread HIV/AIDS awareness campaign in the 1980s and confidence in public services is far higher than their West African counterparts. Uganda has been widely praised for its response to the 2012 Ebola outbreak that killed 17 people. Together with the WHO, Uganda’s health authorities worked to quickly and effectively quell the outbreak with public announcements by President Museveni on radio and TV urging Ugandans to take precautions against the disease.

The current situation in Uganda is that there has been a single case of confirmed Marburg which has killed one health worker. Five people remain in isolation and there is every expectation that the virus will end there. I have been in touch with my friends in Uganda and a fellow Kiwi living Uganda in since 2009 has assured me that life in Kampala continues 100% as normal.

I was due to fly out tomorrow and my boyfriend’s younger brother, Beau, was meeting me the following week in Kampala. I’d spoken with the boys’ parents and their dad had asked if they should be concerned about Ebola and their mum had smiled and said Emma wouldn’t be going if it wasn’t safe. They trust me to ensure that Beau will be safe, and while he is old enough to make his own decisions, he was coming with me based on the fact that I deem Uganda safe – as it always has been on my four previous trips.

If it were up to me alone, I would proceed with the trip as planned as I truly believe we would be safe and that the chance of either of us coming into contact with either Marburg or Ebola is minuscule. But over the past few days I have come to realise that this is not a decision that affects only me and I cannot ignore the fact that my going to Uganda has widespread ramifications for those close to me. For the very first time in my life of spontaneous, out-of-the-ordinary adventures, my parents have stepped in and asked me not to go. This morning I had a heartfelt conversation with Rose who, ever wise, told me of a Ugandan proverb:

‘The elders sometimes do not see so well but still, they understand some things.’

So I am going to have to abide by this proverb and it is with huge sadness and disappointment that I let you know I have postponed my trip to Uganda. I will most certainly return – hopefully sooner rather than later – but for now I need to be selfless and make a decision for those around me rather than for myself. I don’t want to put my family through that worry as I can’t assure them that everything will be alright because I simply don’t know. I have every confidence that Ebola will not reach Uganda but who am I to say? Just a Kiwi girl who left her heart in Uganda.

It particularly hurts to know that this is a luxury I have – to choose to go now or not – but that is the point my parents have raised. There is no reason I must go now – the school, the village, all those I know and love will still be there in a few weeks, a few months and there is no pressing reason I must leave tomorrow. Rose reminds me that they will be looking forward to my arrival any day and says ‘for our love for you and your family, we will respect you.’ I hope with all my heart that this devastating disease is soon stamped out across the entire African continent to let innocent people return to their lives – and so that I can return to my Ugandan home.

Thank you to all those who have supported and encouraged me in the lead-up to this trip. Tomorrow afternoon will be a difficult moment as that plane leaves without me but one thing I know for certain is that this is not a cancellation but a postponement. I will be back soon.

One of the best things about a life on the road is meeting up with far-flung friends and fortuitously crossing paths with people you haven’t seen in years. Back in 2009 before my first trip to Uganda, I was home in Auckland working on the Louis Vuitton Trophy when I met a lady named Danielle Genty-Nott. At the time she was working for Sky City who were doing all our event catering and we hit it off, discussing my upcoming trip to Uganda and travels in general. She joined my group email list, receiving weekly emails from Uganda during those first six months and later updates from my annual return trips to the village.

I had just launched my blog in May this year when she got in touch saying if I was ever in London, where she was now running Tourism New Zealand for the UK and Europe, to give her a shout. As fate would have it, I was flying to London the following week. We met for a long lunch and caught up on the past five years, sharing of stories of Uganda and beyond. She was passionate about helping me get my story out there and at the end of lunch she promised to put me in touch with Bridgid Hawley, Director of Kea New Zealand (Kiwi Expats Abroad) for the UK and Europe.

On my following trip to Europe, I diverted through London where I had the pleasure of meeting with Bridgid and speaking to her about KAASO, Uganda and my book.

For years there had been talk of a secondary school affiliated with KAASO. People in the local community has asked Dominic and Rose if they would establish another school to help educate those leaving KAASO but resources were too few and time was too short.

However, thanks to the extraordinary dedication of a man named Zaake, this dream became a reality. Zaake, a local businessman dealing in Chinese imports, was passionate about developing the community surrounding Kabira. His children had gone through KAASO but then had had to leave to go to secondary schools far away as there were no reputable schools in the area. If Dominic and Rose would agree to help oversee the educational side of things, Zaake would fully fund and oversee the creation of the school. And thus Zaake Secondary School was born.

In December last year I visited the construction site where the school was being built. Wooden scaffolding clung to the red-earth bricks and I wondered how it would ever be ready in time for the new year.

However, any doubts were put to rest on 18th January this year when the school was officially opened and its classrooms filled with old students of KAASO and dozens of other children from the surrounding villages. It was a huge accomplishment and since then I have been eagerly following the progress of the school and its students.

Thanks to Lara Briz, a fellow volunteer who returns regularly to KAASO, I am able to share with you photos of Zaake Secondary School today, functioning and completed and a most impressive facility for the people of Rakai.

Looking at these photos makes me beam with pride at how far the KAASO community has come in the past five years since I first fell in love with this remarkable place. It’s incredible what can be achieved when the determination, dedication and passion of a people is ignited.